


Side Effects

by meetmylarents



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Bottom Harry, Drama, M/M, Mpreg, Mpreg Harry, Top Louis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2680187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meetmylarents/pseuds/meetmylarents
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Styles has a single dream, but this particular dream is enough to fuel his drive for getting a child, no matter the cost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. ; biology

There were three things in the world that made Harry Styles happiest.

First, there was the obvious, Louis Tomlinson. Second, there were his fans. And lastly, there were children. Usually when he closed his eyes and fell into a slumber, he dreamed of one of those things. However, in this particular slumber, he dreamt of two of the three simultaneously.

He saw himself standing in front of a tall mirror, Louis standing behind him, his strong arms gently cradling him. The atmosphere was quiet and had a peaceful mood to it, reminding Harry of a rural family home. Harry slowly turned to kiss his lover, but instead stopped midway when he caught sight of something unusual -- his stomach gently curved downwards, forming a bump. When Louis saw Harry’s reaction, he grinned.

“You look beautiful, love,” he spoke softly against Harry’s ear.

Harry smiled a little and gently placed his hands on his tummy, feeling it. Suddenly, Harry felt a jabbing pain in his side and he found himself in bed, Liam standing over him.

“Bit late to be sleeping, don’t you think?” Liam asked, running a hand through Harry’s untamed mane, pushing it out of his face.

“You know the routine, Liam; I party all night and sleep all day,” Harry mumbled, still hazy from sleep.

That was far from the truth, as Harry had only stayed up until eleven o’clock with Niall, watching some cheesy indie film about a group of people who wanted to save a beach from pollution. The acting was awful and the plot was cliche, but the generic punchlines were enough to make a drunken Niall erupt into hiccupy laughter.

Lately, that was how his nights were playing out. Despite being in Los Angeles, a city overflowing with upbeat energy, Harry preferred to stay at his home and relax.All of the boys were temporarily staying in L.A., except for Louis, who had some unknown “family emergency” to attend to back in Doncaster. It wasn’t unusual for Louis to spontaneously ditch the boys, and Harry often wondered how many “emergencies” the Tomlinson clan could have.

“Well, you party animal, your breakfast is in the microwave, compliments of Zayn.” With a pat on Harry’s shoulder, Liam left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Harry sat up in the empty bed and stretched his limbs, feeling the rush of blood throughout his body. The late-morning sunlight leaked into the room from the cracks in the blinds, illuminating Harry’s tattooed skin. With a sigh, he slid himself out of bed and into his and Louis’ bathroom. He proceeded to switch on the lights and pull off his boxers, then stepped into the glass shower, where he switched on the hot water.

Harry stood in the shower for what seemed like hours, but was in reality, fifteen minutes. He couldn’t help but think of his dream; the thought of growing Louis’ child gave him a strange sensation in his stomach that he couldn’t describe. Harry reached for the closest bottle of body wash, which just so happened to be Lou’s -- a half-empty bottle of Old Spice. He flipped the lid open with his index finger, tilted it downwards and squeezed some of its contents into his palm. He began rubbing his chest and arms, the warm scent lingering through the humid air. The smell reminded him of nothing else except Louis, and when Harry closed his eyes, he could’ve sworn that his lover was with him.

After rinsing the suds off of his body and lightly wetting his hair, he stepped out of the shower, dried himself off and dressed himself in a simple grey sweater and dark blue jeans. When he was finally ready to face the day, he walked out of the bathroom, through his bedroom, the living room, and then finally into the kitchen, where he opened the microwave and retrieved his breakfast.

He walked over to the window, where he stood, admiring the quiet backyard that had come with his multi-million dollar luxury home. A mansion in Los Angeles was far different from a family home back in Holmes Chapel, but Harry’s home was wherever Lou was, which meant his home was in all sorts of places. Lou was his home, and a house was a house.

After he scarfed down his breakfast, he proceeded into the living room, where the other three boys were sitting, watching Access Hollywood, like they usually did on Saturday mornings.

“Any new rumors circulating around?” Harry asked from the door, where he was putting on his black suede boots.

Niall exchanged looks with Liam and Zayn, who both glanced at Harry. Harry felt his stomach twist into knots; he knew it was about Eleanor and Louis.

“Forget I asked,” he muttered.

“Where you headed, Harry?” Liam queried, changing the subject.

“Just a walk, fresh air never hurts, especially before another worldwide tour.” Harry finished putting on his coat and opened the door, looking back at his three mates on the sofa.

“Don’t wreck anything,” he warned jokingly.

“No promises,” Niall retorted with a laugh.

Harry walked out, closing the door behind him. The winter air nipped at his exposed skin and broke through his hair and he shivered. He hopped down the steps of his porch and continued down the stone path and onto his driveway, where he walked for some ways until he reached the gate that blocked his house off from the rest of the world. He pulled out his phone and unlocked it, then opened up the app that controlled the majority of his estate. He pressed the ‘gate open’ button, and waited as the gate slowly opened, allowing him passage. He walked through, pressed the ‘gate close’ button and glanced behind his shoulder as it closed.

He walked down the surprisingly-empty streets of Los Angeles, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat. With each exhale, his breath clouded in front of him, a visual representation of just how cold it was, especially for a Californian city like L.A, where the low never fell below fifty degrees fahrenheit. He saw lush homes and posh boutiques as he strolled down the streets, but none of the city’s august wonders seemed to attract him at this point. He just wanted to walk.

He thought of the thing that he thought about every single day, and that was outing him and Louis. He knew that if he did, he would be in deep shit, but he and Louis would be able to love publicly. On the other hand, it wouldn’t just affect them, it would hurt the other boys, and Harry didn’t want that; he didn’t want them to lose their dreams and accomplishments because of him. So he decided, like he did every other day, that he would wait, wait for the perfect moment. He never knew when that moment was, but he knew it was coming, whether it be in a week or ten years, it was coming.

As Harry walked down the street, he paused abruptly when he saw a sign on a billboard that read ‘Apex Biological Laboratories’, with a picture of three men in labcoats on it, along with a logo depicting the human body in a rather creative fashion. As he studied it, his dream flashed through his head and his stomach tingled, and he found his hands yanking out of his coat pockets to hold his tummy. That’s it, Harry thought, that’s my ticket.

Urgently, Harry jogged down the street and to the corner, where he pulled out his phone, unlocked it and activated Siri by saying “find me a taxi service in Los Angeles”. A list popped up of multiple taxi services, but Harry immediately tapped the first option and his phone began ringing the company.

After three rings, a man with a burly voice picked up. “Summer’s Transportation Services, how may I be of assistance?”

“Yes, hi, uhm, my name is Harry and I’m standing on the corner of Iris Avenue and I’m in quite a hurry, are there any taxis available nearby to pick me up?”

Harry heard the quiet sound of typing in the background and then the man spoke, “Yes, sir, there’s one about a mile from you, is that alright?”

Harry lifted a hand up to his nose and scratched it, then responded, “Yes, that’s perfect, thank you. 

 

“No problem, have a good afternoon, sir.”

“You too,” Harry replied The line went dead and Harry slid his phone back into his pocket. He rocked back and forth on his feet and looked back up at the billboard, staring at it. He felt an unexplainable rush throughout his body and he inhaled deeply, rereading the billboard over and over again until a loud honk startled him.

The taxi was pulled up to the curb, the driver staring at Harry as if he had just grown another head. Harry smiled sheepishly, his face flushed with blood and got into the backseat of the cab then closed the door.

The driver shifted in his seat and smiled back at him. “You’re that one guy from One Direction, yeah?”

Harry nodded with a smile, his face still red. “Yeah, that’s who I am.”

“Where ya wanna go, kid?” the driver queried, pulling away from the curb.

“Apex Biological Laboratories,” Harry responded, glancing through the tinted windows up at the billboard.

The driver laughed a hoarse laugh. “That’s pretty funny, one of them scientists just had some type of engine failure on his way to work so I had to pick ‘em up and take ‘em there; that was my last run!”

“That’s pretty funny,” Harry said with a small laugh, putting his hands together and resting them on his lap. Suddenly, he felt a vibration against his hip and he pulled his hands apart and reached into his pocket then pulled out his phone. It was a text from Louis.

Babe ?? Isn’t it noon in L.A. ?? You sleeping or just ignoring me ??

 

Harry sighed. He unlocked his phone and texted Louis back.

Busy. xx

Harry felt a tightness in his chest, but he didn’t have any other excuse. He wanted to text Louis and tell him how much he missed him, but he was feeling particularly angry at him. Harry knew that Lou and Eleanor were in reality just friends, but the fact that he still went out with her on Modest’s orders ignited a flame of jealousy within him. Harry held down the power button and slid the arrow to the right, turning off his phone.

“Any particular reason you’re goin’ to a lab?” the driver questioned him.

Harry bit his lip. “Personal reasons.”

The driver nodded, glancing back at Harry through his rear-view mirror. “Nice tattoos you got there, got one myself.”

Harry looked up at the driver, then back at himself, noticing how his shirt revealed his upper chest and the tattoos that decorated it. “Oh, yeah, I have lots,” Harry said with a small smile. “What’s yours of?”

“An American flag,, got it when I was stationed in Japan in the fifties,” the man explained, taking his left hand off the wheel and patting his upper right arm.

“That’s pretty interesting,” Harry spoke.

Suddenly, the taxi rolled to a stop alongside a curb and the driver looked back at Harry. “Here you are, pal,” he addressed him. Harry looked at the dashboard and the small screen that indicated his fee. He pulled out his wallet and a twenty dollar bill and handed it to the man. “Thank you, and keep the change.” He opened the door and got out of the cab, feeling the suddenly-cold air hit him. He scoped the area, only to find he was standing on top of a large hill, where below, he could see a majority of L.A. When he turned around, he saw a glass building that towered over him, its heights so high he had to tilt his head all the way back to catch a glimpse of the top. A logo that matched the one on the billboard spanned about five stories on the front of the building, and Harry swallowed. He walked towards the building, examining the modern statues that decorated its walkway. He walked up to the glass doors and they slid open. He walked further until he reached a security checkpoint, where he walked through a metal detector and gave a security guard his identification to keep until he left.

Harry drew in a breath and looked around the lobby -- its walls were entirely glass, its floor a shiny marble and all of the furniture inside extremely modern-themed. Harry noticed a set of glass elevators and promptly walked over to them. There was a sign in between each elevator that listed the departments and their corresponding floors, and one caught Harry’s eye -- Reproduction, floor six. He pressed the ‘up’ arrow and waited, tapping his foot on the marble flooring below.

The elevator opened and a woman in a lab coat walked out, glancing at Harry as she passed. Harry entered the empty elevator and hit the button that corresponded with ‘6’, and leaned back against the wall as the doors closed and it began lifting him to the sixth floor. In a matter of thirty seconds, the doors opened to floor six and Harry exited, entering what looked like a smaller version of the main lobby. He walked up to the front desk and the woman at the computer looked up at him with an automatic smile, but her happy expression turned to shock.

Before she could say anything, Harry asked her, “do you know who’s in charge of this department?”

The woman closed her mouth and looked to the side, slightly embarrassed, then back up at him. “Dr. Patterson,” she answered.

“Is he free right now?” Harry asked.

“Let me check,” the woman spoke, then looked to her computer, clicked a few times, then looked back up at Harry. “He is, do you want to see him?”

Harry nodded.

“I’ll just send you into him, then,” she said with a smile. “His room is down this hall and the last door on the left, Room 37R.”

“Thanks,” Harry thanked her, then walked down the hallway. He reached the end of the hallway and placed his hand on the handle of the last door, turned it and opened it. “Excuse me?”

A tall man who looked to be in his mid-thirties with black hair, brown eyes and stubble turned to him. “Hello there, how can I help you?”

Harry took a deep breath.

“I want to be pregnant.”


	2. ; paperwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one has a bit of fluff and emotions in it! Thank you all for being so patient and kind with me!

The man’s gaze was intense as he stared at Harry, his deep-set brown eyes locked on him as if he had just committed a murder within his presence. 

“Are you serious?” he asked, though not in a tone of disapproval, but rather disbelief.

“Yeah,” Harry answered, swallowing a lump that had begun to form in his throat from the second he walked in. “Can you do it?” 

Dr. Patterson’s eyes fell to Harry’s feet, then back up to Harry’s eyes. “You’re completely serious?”

“I am.”

The scientist turned on his heels and walked over to his cluttered desk, where he sat down in his leather office chair and nodded to the seat across from him, signaling Harry to sit down. Harry walked forward and slid himself into the plush chair, eyeing his surroundings -- countless plaques and certificates, along with minimalist paintings that Harry could have sworn were created by first graders. Modern art, he thought.

“If you are entirely serious about this male pregnancy matter,” the man paused and folded his hands together on top of his desk, “well, first and foremost, my name is Dr. Isaac Patterson, and I’m in charge of the reproductive department of the laboratories. What’s your name, son?”

“Harry Styles,” Harry stated, gently sucking the insides of his cheeks into the space between his upper and lower teeth.

“Well, Mr. Styles, my team, about three years back, started on the basis of male conception and pregnancy,” he explained, sorting through a file organizer that rested at the right corner of his desk, “but never continued it, as a scientific breakthrough concerning the use of stem cells from aborted fetuses became the bigger matter in the community.”

Harry looked down at his hands, wiggling his fingers lightly against each other. “Is it even possible?” he asked, his voice breaking at the end of his question.

The scientist looked upon Harry with sympathetic eyes as he pulled out a black folder from the file organizer. “Mr. Styles, you’d be the first if you were to attempt it, so I can’t tell you that right now.”

Harry looked up from his hands and to the scientist, who was watching him quietly. “I’ll be the first,” he insisted, feeling his heart beat against his chest as he heard the words leave his mouth.

“Mr. Styles, I’m warning you now that it’s very risky and expensive,” the scientist explained.

“I’m willing to take risks and money is not an obstacle.” The tone in Harry’s voice wasn’t smug or cocky, but instead serious; it was true, being in the biggest boyband of the decade had its payouts -- he was able to help his family pay off their loans and other debts, and then some. He had more money left over than he knew what to do with, and what better way to rid himself of the extra money than to get what even his subconscious self wanted -- a child.

“You’re famous, aren’t you, Mr. Styles?” the man’s words hit Harry suddenly, like a blow to the face. He shifted in his seat; he hated that word.

“I, uhm, yeah…” he trailed off, avoiding the scientist’s intrigued gaze.

“Will this pregnancy matter -- if you happen to conceive -- prove to be a problem?”

Harry felt a nagging weight in his stomach that created an urge for him to double over and puke, but he suppressed the urge, fighting his eyes back to look at the scientist sitting across from him. “Yes,” he said in a quivering voice, “but when they find out, it’ll be too late for them to do anything about it.”

The scientist studied Harry’s distraught face, then opened the black folder, revealing its two adjacent pockets heavily stuffed with various papers. “We had a test subject lined up back in 2012, but due to financial issues, he couldn’t go through with the operation.” The scientist’s fingers sorted through the papers until he pulled out a single paper, lined with black ink throughout, and handed it to Harry.

Harry lifted the paper closer to his face and skimmed it -- details as to how finances played a crucial role in the procedures. When he skimmed closer to the end, his eyes stopped when he saw numbers that contrasted from the heavy text that took up the rest of the paper -- 1.7 million. That’s how much it would cost in order for Harry to have a baby. Harry handed the paper back to the scientist and slouched back in the chair, eyeing him. “Do you want the check now?”

The scientist blinked, his facial features contorted with an expression of awe. “You have no second thoughts, Mr. Styles? I haven’t even gone over the possible side effects, or how the surgery may or may not work at all--”

“I’m sure,” Harry stopped him, his tone hinting to a bit of annoyance. All he ever heard was “are you sure?” and quite frankly, he was tired of it. He wasn’t stupid; just because he was young, didn’t mean that he didn’t know what he wanted. He was fairly certain that he knew what he wanted a lot more than anyone else did.

Dr. Patterson noticed Harry’s suddenly-rigid physique and cleared his throat, then pulled three more sheets of paper out of the folder, handed them to Harry, and leaned back, maintaining his gaze on the boy.

Harry’s eyes moved across the pages -- nothing but legal matters. He paused whenever he came across a bulleted list, which listed all of the possible side effects of the operation.

Due to the Manner of the Operation(s), Side Effects of the Procedure(s) May Include:  
Dizziness  
Nausea  
Insufficient blood flow to certain regions  
Hemorrhaging  
Damage of Internal Organs  
Frequent spells of pain  
Insomnia  
Loss/gain of appetite  
Numbness/tingling  
Dry mouth/throat  
Irritable bowels  
Impaired vision/hearing  
Temporary paralysis  
Weakness

“I fully understand that Apex Biological Laboratories and its affiliates are in no ways held liable for any damages, injuries or death that occur in result of the operation(s).”

________________________________  
x

Harry bit his lip and averted his gaze from the paper to the scientist. “Have you got a pen?”

The scientist furrowed his eyebrows at Harry and pulled a pen out of his jacket, then handed it to him. “Are you not going to have a lawyer go over this, Mr. Styles?”

Harry shook his head, signed his name on the line, then reached into his jacket to retrieve his checkbook. The scientist watched in slight disbelief as Harry began filling out the check, his face void of any readable emotion.

Harry finished the slight curve of the ‘s’ on the last part of his name, then laid the check on top of the forms. “Can I ask you a favor?” he queried, the urge to vomit all over his black suede boots still strong. 

The scientist nodded.

“I ask that you play this off like it’s just a surgery for something else, like…” Harry trailed off, his mind racing to find a valid excuse for a major surgery.

“Like a gastric bypass?” the scientist suggested.

“Sure,” Harry agreed automatically.

“I will do you that favor, then, Mr. Styles.”

Harry leaned back in the plush chair. 

 

*~*~*

The trip fro wasn’t as peaceful as the trip to, since as soon as Harry exited the cab that delivered him to the gates of his estate, he was mobbed by a group of ravenous fans, screaming his name over and over in their high-pitched voices, desperate for attention.

Harry weaved his way through the hyper fans, grabbed his phone out of his pocket with an iron grip and unlocked it, then proceeded to open the app that opened the gates and hit the ‘gate open’ option. The gates slowly started opening inwards and the fans began scrambling towards them, only to have Harry nudge them back with his elbows as he walked through. As he walked through, he tapped the ‘gate close’ button, which prompted the gates to immediately close. The fans continued their rambunctious shouting as Harry walked down his driveway towards his home. 

As he neared its front porch, he noticed a figure leaning against the railing, watching him. The closer Harry drew to the house, the more easily he could make out the features of the person -- blue eyes, shaggy brown hair, tattooed skin -- Louis. He felt his heart skip a beat and he found himself running towards him, a smile forcing its way across his face.

Louis hopped down the steps of the porch and jogged towards Harry, who crashed into him with open arms, wrapping them around him on impact.

“Lou!” Harry cried, curling his fingers into his back.

Louis’s chuckles escaped his mouth, muffled by the fabric of Harry’s coat as he savored the feel of his lover’s heat against his face for the first time in a week. Even though it had only eight days since they had seen each other, they were overcome with emotion, just as they always were when they were reunited after spells of separation.

“Thought I would surprise you,” Louis stated as he pulled his head away from Harry’s chest.  
“You really did,” Harry laughed, tears forming in his eyes, threatening passage down his face.

With a sheepish smile, Louis grabbed Harry’s large hands and intertwined their fingers, his blue eyes meeting the glossy green ones of Harry’s. 

“I was a bit worried; the lads told me that you disappeared ‘round noon to go for a stroll, and it was two-thirty when I arrived here, and you still weren’t back,” Louis spoke, rubbing his thumbs along the knuckles of Harry’s index fingers.

“I ‘ad to go meet with my doctor,” Harry lied, the words leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. He felt his brain switch from happy to sad just then. 

Louis’s face suddenly straightened with concern. “Why?”

“I, uhm…” Harry looked away from Louis’s intense eyes and to his feet, “I have to get surgery.”

Harry felt Louis’s hands tighten around his and looked up from the ground and to Louis, whose face was suddenly pale.

“What’s wrong, Haz? Are you alright? What is it? Why do you need surgery?” Louis demanded frantically, staring up at him.

“Gastric bypass,” Harry answered quietly, his voice cracking.

“Dear God,” Louis groaned, his hands breaking from Harry’s and flying up to his head.

“I have to go in next week,” Harry mumbled. He closed his eyes and squeezed the tears out of the corners of his eyes.

Louis took a few steps back, shaking his head. “What the hell do you need a gastric bypass surgery for?”

Harry felt his body stiffen and he looked away from Lou’s harsh glare and towards the trees, where he absentmindedly stared as his face filled with heat. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips as more tears started flowing down his face. 

Louis noticed the waterworks that had suddenly decorated Harry’s face and he took a deep breath, relaxed his body and slowly walked over to him. “Love, I’m sorry,” he apologized softly.

Harry looked away from the trees and towards his boyfriend, the tears making his eyes shine like green emeralds. “I’m sorry,” Harry whimpered.

“It’s not your fault, I’m just being an idiot,” Louis corrected him. He reached up and wiped away his boyfriend’s tears lovingly with his thumb.  
It is my fault, Harry thought. He couldn’t feel his hands and his legs were growing weak. His lips curled into a small quivering smile as Louis stroked his cheek with his thumb. Without a word, Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and led him up the steps and into their home, where he ushered him down the endless halls and into their bedroom. 

He closed the double doors behind him and led his lover to their large bed, where he helped him into the comforts of its sheets and covers. He then crawled in next to him, draping the duvet covers over them both and wrapped his arms around Harry, who cradled into him.

Harry inhaled Louis’s musky scent and let out a loud exhale. He didn’t know why, but not telling Louis the truth about the surgery was eating him alive. Maybe it was the fact that every time he mentioned children to Louis, he would always tell him “later” in an apathetic tone, and by making himself able to conceive a child was being unfair and disloyal to Louis. Maybe that was it, or maybe it was just the fact that he was lying to him in general.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Louis asked, his voice light and soft, lingering against Harry’s skin like a feather.

“Sing to me, Lou,” Harry whispered.

With a small smile, Louis began to sing.

“I have loved you since we were 18…”


End file.
